


Fits Like a Glove

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:04:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: Percy finally meets someone who can give him what he wants.





	Fits Like a Glove

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** None, really. Neville's a bit kinky, but Percy's good with it, so...
> 
> **Challenge:** Written as my May Daily Deviant submission.   
>  Themes/kinks chosen: Gloves, Suspension, Alternate pairing: Percy/Neville.
> 
> **Author's notes:** Thanks to Sevfan and Emynn for beta reading, to Torino10154 for title assistance, and to the mods for the alternate posting day. ♥
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

Fits Like a Glove

~

It’s the gloves that do it. Percy’s never really been attracted to the overly muscled types (Oliver Wood notwithstanding, _everyone_ had the hots for him), but the day he sees Neville Longbottom, receiving his Order of Merlin, First Class, he can’t help but notice how nicely he fills out his formal robes, and how sexy his hands look in gloves.

The fact that he’s on the dais right behind the Minister, who has a special word for each of the recipients, helps, of course. He gets to see everything up close. 

Neville's even hotter up close. He’s definitely not the chubby firstie Percy recalls, who looked scared of his own shadow. No, this is a broad-shouldered, confident man, and Percy’s hand shakes a bit when he hands Minister Shacklebolt the box to present to him. There’s something about confident men that does it for Percy every time.

The Minister notices, Percy’s sure, but he doesn’t say anything, he never does. He simply smiles, shakes Neville’s hand, and puts an arm across his shoulders for a picture. 

Percy stands behind them, his eyes roving Neville’s posterior (it’s lovely, too), although he can’t manage not to again look at those hands in those gloves. 

As Neville leaves the stage, Percy stares after him, mind filled with less than work-safe images.

“I need the next award, Mr Weasley.” At least the Minister sounds amused and not impatient. 

“Yes, Minister.” Percy rummages through his collection of Orders of Merlin, all classes, locates the correct one, this time for Hermione Granger, and manages to look semi-competent by the time she gets up on the stage. 

Later, at the reception, Percy watches Neville, who is at the centre of a large gaggle of admirers. He handles them with aplomb, skilfully extracting himself when the group gets too boisterous. 

Percy makes his approach when Neville’s at the buffet table. “Canapés have never been my thing,” he says, reaching for some bacon-wrapped shrimp. “I know it’s not very sophisticated of me, but I prefer home cooking.” 

Neville smiles at him. “I agree,” he says, and Merlin, even his voice has improved, deepening over the years. Percy’s pretty sure this Neville could talk him to orgasm. “Although not all of us have your mother cooking for us on a regular basis. Is she here, by the way? I assume she is. She wouldn’t miss this for the world, I bet.” He’s holding a glass of wine; it’s cupped in his hand and he swirls it periodically with his gloved hands, letting it breathe. 

Staring at the hand holding the glass, every thought flies out of Percy’s head, and only instinct makes him incline his head and smile. 

Neville raises an eyebrow. “Percy? Are you all right?” 

Raising his eyes to Neville’s, Percy exhales shakily. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, what was your question?” 

“I asked if your mother’s here for the ceremony.” Neville raises his glass to his mouth and sips, and that’s it. Percy has an urgent problem.

“I…have to go. Sorry.” Percy can feel the smile trembling on his face and, turning abruptly, hurries towards the loo. Once inside, he walks over to a sink and splashes some water on his face, trying to control his breathing and will his cock down. 

Looking up at his reflection, he says, “All right. You can do this. Just…avoid Neville Longbottom the rest of the night and you’ll be fine.” 

“What have I done to make you want to avoid me?” asks Neville quietly from behind him.

Percy jumps, spinning around to face him. “I…er…” 

Neville signs. “Do we need to talk, clear the air?” 

Percy shakes his head. “Not really. We’re fine. Everything’s fine. Truly.” 

“That’s obviously not true,” says Neville, studying Percy as if he’s a puzzle to be solved. “I heard what you said as I walked in. Something’s obviously going on with you. What is it? If you tell me, maybe I can help.” 

Staring into Neville’s eyes, Percy almost laughs. What _would_ Neville do if Percy did tell him how he felt? How he craves having Neville’s gloved hands roaming his body, touching him everywhere, stroking him, caressing him, making him come, although perhaps not until Percy was begging for it, screaming for it. 

Neville’s eyes narrow. “You…do know I’m a Legilimens, don’t you?” he asks softly. 

Percy freezes. “No,” he chokes out, shaking his head. “No, no, no—”

“Yes.” Neville’s smile is faint, but there. “And what I just saw—” He exhales. “Well, I finally understand why you’ve been acting the way you have. And I have to say, I’m surprised.” 

Closing his eyes, Percy bows his head, humiliated. “I’ll be sure to leave you alone,” he says. “As I work for the Minister, we may have to encounter each other occasionally, but I’ll be sure to keep contact to a minimum—”

“You misunderstood me, Percy.” Neville’s voice is soft, but with underlying steel. “I’m saying I’m surprised but interested.” 

Percy snaps his head up to gape at Neville. “You…what?”

“I’m interested.” Slowly, Neville brings his gloved hand up to cup and caress Percy’s jaw, and when he runs his cloth-covered thumb over Percy’s lower lip, Percy’s breath hitches. “Yes. Definitely interested.” 

The door opens and someone walks in. Percy steps away, and Neville drops his hand. Leaning in, Neville says, “This isn’t the place for this, though. Shall we go?” 

“Please,” Percy whimpers, and Neville smiles. 

“Right, hold on to me.” Clasping Percy’s hand, Neville Apparates them…elsewhere.

It’s dark, Percy can’t see anything, and his hand tightens on Neville’s. 

“ _Lumos._ ”

Percy’s mouth drops open when he sees where Neville’s brought him. It’s a dungeon, or at least it looks like one. There’s a central stone slab with shackles on it, and various hooks on the walls. What had he got himself into? “You have a sex dungeon?” 

Neville’s laugh sends shivers up Percy’s spine. “Not exactly. This is my parents’ house. I discovered this…feature after the last war and it…intrigued me, so I restored it as best I could. I did wait until after I started living here alone, though.” 

“Oh.” Percy bites his lip. What is Neville going to want to do with him? He goes still, and when Neville turns him around to stare into his eyes, he lets him. 

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” Neville promises. “And if you’d rather I stop using Legilimency, I will.” 

Percy shakes his head. “I like it, actually. It means I don’t have to say anything too…embarrassing.” 

Neville smirks. “If we end up doing this again, we’ll have an evening where I’ll make you tell me everything you want,” he says, voice dark. “But for tonight, we’ll just do what you imagined, is that all right?” 

“Please,” says Percy, trembling. He hesitates. “But…maybe not here?” 

“All right. Come with me.” Neville leads Percy towards some stairs and past a well-appointed lounge, down a hallway, and into a bedroom.

Percy stares at the bed, an enormous thing that’s fully double the size of his own. “Oh,” he says. 

“It’s bespoke.” Neville shrugs. “After the war…well, cramped spaces bother me. Take off your clothes.” 

Percy does so, but slowly. He knows he’s nothing like Neville, with his chiselled muscles honed by working in a garden and then months of running a resistance. He’s thin, pale, freckled. 

But as he undresses, Neville makes an approving noise, and all Percy’s apprehension drains from him. “Very nice,” Neville whispers, sliding a gloved hand over Percy’s back, and then Percy is in a hurry, shedding the rest of his kit in record time before turning to face him. 

Neville smiles, looking him up and down. He licks his lips. “On the bed.” 

Percy obeys, lying down on the side closest to Neville. 

“The centre,” Neville clarifies, starting to shed his own clothes. 

Percy scoots over, and by the time he looks back over at Neville, he’s naked, but for the gloves. His muscles ripple as he moves towards the edge of the bed and climbs on, and the predatory look in his eyes reminds Percy for a moment of a big cat, a jaguar, perhaps, stalking its prey. Percy shivers. 

“Cold?” asks Neville, straddling Percy. “I can turn on the fireplace.” He gestures toward a stone fireplace in the wall. 

Percy hadn’t even noticed it, having been focussed on the bed. He shakes his head. 

Neville smiles. “So eager,” he whispers, one gloved hand sliding up Percy’s side to stop and tweak a nipple. 

Percy moans, his eyes closing as Neville’s hands travel slowly over him, mapping him, exploring him, caressing him. Every few seconds, Neville locates an especially sensitive spot, some of which Percy never even knew he had. Sooner than Percy thinks is possible, he’s desperate, whining for relief.

“Yes,” says Neville, both hands on Percy’s hips. He’s touched Percy everywhere but the one place he wants, _needs_ to be touched. “Let go and just feel me.” 

“Please,” gasps Percy, thrusting his hips up in empty air. 

Neville’s laugh is dark. “Soon, lovely. Soon.” 

Percy’s mouth falls open, his body thrashing under Neville’s touch. When Neville’s mouth touches his, Percy’s eyes fly open, but then close again as Neville’s tongue engages adroitly with his, making Percy tremble. Not only can Neville play his body like an instrument, he’s an amazing kisser. Percy’s head is swimming by the time Neville draws back to kiss his way down Percy’s neck. 

“Mm, yes,” whispers Neville, one gloved hand straying perilously close to Percy’s cock. “So sweet and responsive.” 

Percy tries to beg, to plead, but words won’t come, only half-finished gurgles that barely approximate language. 

Neville clearly understands, however. “Look at me,” he says.

Percy opens his eyes to look at Neville, just as one gloved hand wraps around his cock. Percy cries out as sensation rocks through him, and Neville only strokes him three times before he’s coming, shooting his seed all over Neville’s hand and his own stomach. 

“You’re gorgeous when you come,” praises Neville, and Percy, trembling and spent, smiles. 

Neville holds and caresses him until Percy’s breathing settles. Turning in Neville’s arms, Percy says, “Thank you.” 

“Believe me, it was my pleasure.” 

Percy frowns. “Have you—?”

“Come? No.” Neville rocks his hip against Percy, who then feels his hot length drag across the skin of his thigh. 

Percy blinks. “Oh! Can I—?” He stops. 

Neville shifts, looking him in the face. “Finish your question.” 

“I’ll do whatever you want,” whispers Percy, caught up in Neville’s eyes. “Suck you, pull you off—”

Neville smiles. “How about your arse? Are you ready for me to fuck you?” 

Percy moans, the imagine of him on all fours with Neville pounding into him from behind makes his cock actually twitch. When another older fantasy comes to him, he suppresses it.

“You like that idea.” Neville’s eyes narrow. “But you want something more…exotic?”

“You saw that?” Percy feels his skin grow hot as he blushes. “We don’t have to—”

“Oh, you’ll never have to work to persuade me to try something new.” 

Percy raises an eyebrow. “There are things that are new to you? You seem like you’ve done everything.” 

Neville laughs. “Of course not.” He grins, and gone is the sophisticated war hero, replaced by a cheerful young man. “There are lots of things I’d like to try. That…suspension thing you were thinking about looks like fun.” 

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” Percy looks down. 

“Hey.” Neville uses a gloved finger to tilt Percy’s face back up. “Your fantasies are _yours_ and you’re entitled to them. I certainly won’t judge you.” He smirks and the sensual, in control man is back. “Although I don’t have anything to suspend you in.” 

Percy swallows. “There’s a spell,” he says softly. “It’s used to apprehend prisoners, and I’ve always thought—”

Neville nods. “Yes?” 

“It could be used to that purpose.” 

“Tell me more.” 

In the end, Percy teaches Neville the spell, and although Neville is only half-hard by the time he learns it, it only takes a minute or so of Percy on his knees sucking him to bring him back to erect. 

Percy, magically suspended in the air, arse tilted up, arms restrained behind his back, legs spread wide for Neville’s viewing, is trembling. His cock is again erect, but this time Neville’s placed a Binding Charm on him. The Lubricating and Stretching Spells all done, Percy’s sure he looks obscene. An arse waiting to take cock.

“There,” says Neville, caressing his arse with a gloved hand. “What a spectacular view.” He uses his thumb to circle Percy’s hole, and for a second even slides the thumb ever so slightly inside Percy. 

“Merlin,” gasps Percy. “Please.” 

“How can I resist such a sweet request?” says Neville, and positioning himself, he presses inside Percy, not pausing or stopping until he’s balls deep. 

It feels like Neville’s in his throat, and Percy claws at empty air, then clenches his hands into fists as he’s filled and filled. Biting back his cries, he whimpers as Neville’s cock presses all the right buttons inside him.

“You…all…right?” grunts Neville, sliding in and out of him in smooth, sure strokes. “Fuck but you’re lovely and tight.” 

Once again, Percy’s world narrows to sensation. Suspended as he is, tied as he is, he surrenders to pleasure. He feels weightless, and although Neville’s fucking takes him apart, it also remakes him, grounds him. By the time Neville is coming, his hips shuddering as he pours himself into Percy’s body, Percy is floating. 

Surrounded by light, safe, Percy swims in pleasure until he hears Neville whispering, “…got you. You’re all right, you’re safe.” 

The world comes rushing back and he opens his eyes to find he’s in Neville’s bed, Neville’s arms are wrapped around him, and the fire is roaring. He feels secure and he sighs. 

“Back, are we?” Neville kisses Percy’s temple. 

“Did I go somewhere?” 

“Subspace, I think.” Neville’s arms tighten around Percy as he stiffens. “It’s fine. You were just so deep when I finished, I figured you just needed a bit of aftercare. How do you feel?” 

Percy takes stock. “Marvellous, actually.” He twists to look into Neville’s face. “How do you know so much about…?”

“Kink?” Neville smiles. “Did you know the section on sex is right next to the section on forbidden herbs in the Restricted Section of Hogwarts’ library? I wasn’t popular in school, so I studied up in the event I ever found someone who likes the same things I do.” 

Percy drops his eyes. “Think you’ll ever find them?”

Neville’s arms tighten around Percy. “I think I’ve a shot. I’m going to have to see how things go.” 

Percy hums. It seemed he, too, has a shot at happiness. And linking his fingers with Neville’s still gloved ones, he smiles. 

~


End file.
